


AC | Bilious Cooperation

by Dragockon



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Aiden O'connor, Anxeity, Assassin's, Assassins, Borgia - Freeform, Creed, Death, F/F, F/M, Fantasy themes, Fighting, Flirting, French Templar, La volpe - Freeform, Louis Thomas, Other, PTSD flashback, Renaissance Era, Roma, Rome - Freeform, Subtle shipping but nothing serious, Templars, Transphobia, Violence, assassins creed, ezio - Freeform, italty, misuse of pronouns, sensetive topics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2019-09-05 21:14:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16818577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragockon/pseuds/Dragockon
Summary: Aiden, a Celtic Frenchman who is running from a dark past, quirky, adventurous, and a touch of over-confidence. He is sent on a simple mission, by the one and only La Volpe...To retrieve one item, it shouldn't be that hard... Right?





	1. Seeking You

**Author's Note:**

> Louis and Aiden are two OC's of mine, this work mostly focus's on them. While Ezio, La Volpe, and others also appear in the work, they are more side characters in this story. 
> 
> If you would like to know what Aiden/Louis look like, and more about their history, you can see their references on my DeviantART Page.  
> (Art is all my own work)  
> Aiden:  
> https://www.deviantart.com/grace-winters/art/AC-Aiden-O-Conner-The-Sly-767588513
> 
> Louis:  
> https://www.deviantart.com/grace-winters/art/AC-Louis-Victor-Thomas-The-Stoic-768945895

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tap...  
> Tap...  
> Tap...  
> Tap...
> 
> CRACK!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Louis and Aiden are two OC's of mine, this work mostly focus's on them. While Ezio, La Volpe, and others also appear in the work, they are more side characters in this story.
> 
> If you would like to know what Aiden/Louis look like, and more about their history, you can see their references on my DeviantART Page.  
> (Art is all my own work)  
> Aiden:  
> https://www.deviantart.com/grace-winters/art/AC-Aiden-O-Conner-The-Sly-767588513
> 
> Louis:  
> https://www.deviantart.com/grace-winters/art/AC-Louis-Victor-Thomas-The-Stoic-768945895

##  **Epilogue**

* * *

_Tap_

_Tap_

_Tap  
_

"Are you waiting on someone there? You sure seem impatient."

_..._

_CRACK!  
_

A fist slammed down on the table, and everyone along the bar went silent. Who did the fist belong to? Some big burly Italian man with a short beard and a scar across the left side of his face. Angry glaring brown eyes locked on the man sitting next to him along the bar. The other man was only slightly shorter, by pretty thick muscled himself, still, not as much as the Italian. He had curly hair that was short in the front but slightly longer towards the back, black coloured eyes, wearing a clean well black kept waist coat with long tails, and tall collars that covered part of his face as he leaned down over his glass. The sleeves were short and stopped at the elbow, revealing his forearms.

His right forearm had rows of small little cuts, old scars, followed by gloved hands, his left arm was covered in metal armour, and a bracer on his forearm followed by gloves. Belt of various kinds adored his torso and hips, a belt for his pants, a belt across his chest for his pouch and french Bardiche, a long spear-like weapon but instead of a arrowhead a blade rested at the end. He had a beard that looked like it hadn't been shaven in a few days, growing out more then usual.

And who's fist was it that landed on the table?  
It belonged to the Italian man. 

The other man must've been french because when he opened his mouth a thick french accent filled the silence of the room and all eyes turned to him. His English was understandable at least, not that it mattered to the angry Italian. 

"Excuse _moi?_ " He lifted his hands palm-up in mock surrender, he looked almost bored, unbothered by the fist that nearly tipped his drink over. 

  
"I asked you a question _francese uomo!_ _Rispondetemi!_ " The Italian man said with a grin, the Frenchman could tell he was drunk, or at least intoxicated enough to be angry. _Great he's a angry drunk with big muscle, my luck._ The man didn't seem to be able to stick to English either, spluttering a mix of English and Italian, and though he was smart enough to figure out 'francese' meant 'French'. Everything else went over his head, Italian wasn't a language he knew, sadly.

The frenchman shrugged, picking up his drink and taking a long sip of it, feeling the alcohol burn on the way down taking the edge of sleep off his weary old bones. He was far from being old yet, but nether was he young either, at 46 of age he looked more like he was in his early 30's, being a highly trained Assassin tended to do that to you. But it didn't mean he didn't still feel the creak of old bones on cold days like this, or aches that seem to take longer and longer to get rid of. A little bit of alcohol tended to take the edge off, not enough to get drunk but enough to ease his aches after months of traveling.

He sensed the fist right before it connected with his face, making his head twist painfully to the right as his liquor spat out of his mouth along with a bit of blood - great another missing teeth - _I won't have any left by the time I'm old._ He thought to himself, the rush of adrenaline filled his body and he turned his head back toward the man who struck him. He let the adrenaline fill his body a moment, gripping his glass cup, it was like all the air had left the room and all eyes were on the foreigner, waiting to see what he'd do. A trickle of blood dripped down the side of his face.

" _Connard_ " he hissed under his breath _,_ suddenly both his arms shot up at the same time as he jumped to his feet, his right arm flashing palm-open towards the man's face, distracting him as the Italian went to push it out of his face. But by the time he did it was too late as his left arm grasped the man's neck, tilting his hand slightly a soft _sliiink_ could be heard. A hidden blade attached to the frenchman's bracer ejecting out, barley missing the drunk man's neck.

The foreigner leaned towards the man, "Leave a old man alone with his liquor _italien_ " He said with a accent, he hadn't quite perfected his English. The Frenchman was proud of his language and despised having to speak English in this foreign land, french was superior language in his view, but alas one must make sacrifices at times. For the greater good. He knew no Italian, and the only other common language was English - so it left him no choice.

The drunk man starred in shock, then all of a sudden the foreigner heard a noise from behind him, turning his head and shoulders just enough to watch as a knife flew by him and stuck into the wall opposite to him. The person who threw it wore old ragged robes, a hood pulled down showing his short dark brown hair and young boy-like face with hazel eye's full of anger. His robe was a dirty brown and he looked like a thief to the frenchman, he wasn't sure what specifically about him, but he just screamed _thief_ to him.

_"_ _lascialo solo_ _!"(Leave him alone!)_ The man snapped, he felt anger boiling under the surface threatening to explode, instead he took a deep breath releasing it as he exhaled, his knife still dangerously close to the drunk man's neck. A stoic but determined expression spread over the older gentleman's face.  
"When will you _italien's_ learn I don't speak your _zut_ language?"

Turning to the drunk man, releasing him and letting him fall enough so he could swing his elbow right into the man's temple, watching as he collapsed unconscious. He was already tethering on the edge of unconsciousness, the Frenchman just gave him a little...extra help. He ducked down as a knife whizzed past him, about to tell the man with the hood that he missed, except, the knife caught his coat and when he turned he got stuck as his thick black coat tugged hard.

Suddenly he was knocked into, instinctively he brought his left arm up using the bracer to block the blow aimed for his throat from a dagger, the hooded thief glared at him. There was a glint that flashed in the smaller man's eyes, and suddenly both sets of eyes looked down at a thin necklace the frenchman wore around his neck. On it was a cross-like shape, but no, it wasn't a christian cross, not that of the catholic church... No...

It was a Templar Cross.

" _Templar_..." The thief hissed between his teeth as they were locked in a power struggle, his blade digging into the frenchman's bracer, while the frenchman had caught the other man's fist in mid-punch, neither willing to let go, neither willing to give up. The Templar said nothing though, nothing at all, even as his sweat mixed with the trickle of blood on his face. Suddenly there was a shift in balance. The Templar stumbled back having not expected to find nothing but a railing pressing into his lower spine. _I'm against the railing, if he makes me trip I'll either get my throat cut or I'll fall and break my neck._

A knife pressed against his neck, but the hand holding it was trembling, _not trained as a killer I see._ He took note of that, raising his hands slowly, both men were breathing deeply, the older man more then the younger, their breath's loud and heavy.  
"Who are you?" The Italian asked in a low growl, " _Templar!_ " He hissed, tugging on the necklace around the frenchman's neck to reveal the Templar's Cross.  
"Louis, Louis Thomas at your service _voleur_ (thief)"

Then The Templar suddenly dropped down, so quickly that the thief wasn't expecting it. The Frenchman pushing up with his bracer and twisting it around causing the knife-hand of the thief to twist and drop the knife as he did. Punching him in the side of the face, grunting in pain as the hooded man kneed him in the stomach. Then he gripped onto his coat,turning around and pressing the thief's back against the railing. They were high enough - he'd at least break a bone if he fell, especially if the frenchman dropped him _head first._

"Where is La Volpe?"

"Who? I won't tell you anything Templar scum!" The theif snarled, a flash of fear was in his eyes as Louis lifted him up, ignoring the screams and shouts of confusion from the ground below. The frenchman leaning the thief over the edge, hidden blade snapping forward as he pressed it gently against the skin of his neck. 

"Your no Assassin," He said in a shockingly calm and icy stoic voice. 

"I-I'm a Th-theif! I-I work with La Volpe! Please sir!" He started to panic, Louis took no joy in this man's fear, but it was necessary. _I have to find him before he gets too deep into the brotherhood, he doesn't know what he's getting into..._ Being the killer he was, he knew how to turn off his emotions when needed, for the greater good. Some things had to be done...

He let go with one hand, the man dangling with his legs up by Louis's shoulders, flailing wildly, people screamed below, someone shouted. Someone was coming into the inn, Louis ignored that for now. Time was running out, he needed answers-

"What is La Volpe looking for? What's his most recent desire? What does he want to get his greedy little hands on? Tell me." Louis said, calm as ever, as boots hit the first step of the stair-way below.

"I-I..."  
Louis let go with one finger, watching the man's eye's go wide with horror. 

"Tell me." He repeated, his voice low, a husky growl almost, his other hand rubbing his beard absentmindedly, he hadn't shaven in awhile...

  
"Sir Marco's dagger! A golden dagger! I don't know an-"

Louis let go of the man, watching as he fell - a pathetic scream leaving his mouth as he fell - he turned around last second, not wishing to see the sight as a sickening crunching of bones hit his ears a second later. Bringing his bracer around to block the hidden blade meant for his spine.

"Out of my way Assassin, I'm not looking for you but another." 

"Oh? And who is that?"

"Aiden O'Connor, you might know him in fact, but first - I must find myself the king of thieves...For he will lead me to my goal. " 

"And you think I'll just let you leave? Where'd you get that assassin's blade huh?"

"That is a story for another time, Novice,"

There was a flash of bright light followed by smoke, and the Templar was gone.

Aiden O'Conner.... 


	2. Inspecting But Not Expecting

_Tip Tap_

_Tip Tap_

_Tip_

_Tip_

_Tab_....

* * *

The sound of soft droplets of water hit Aiden's ear's, the smell of wet hay was strong, and Aiden realized just how bad wet hay smelled. It wasn't something a person normally got to smell every day, but boy did it _stink_. It was like some animal had died and come back again! 

He groaned as he lifted his head, rubbing his bright red eyes with his palms. Looking down he found himself in a pile of hay hidden under the shadow of an alleyway. Unfortunately, he hadn't been protected from the light drizzle of rain hitting the roads of Rome. Luckily it wasn't heavy, but droplets dripped down from the edges of the roof leaving his purple robe and cloak a bit damp. 

His head was pounding, last night had been...Rough, his Mentor had trained him hard and every muscle had ached. He buried his head into his hands letting out a long sigh, being a homeless Assassin was... Not something he was proud of, often sleeping in hay, in the woods or various other abandon ruins or places he could find. On the other hand, it helped keep the Templar's from catching up to him... Specifically, his Uncle who Aiden knew was still looking for him. 

On the other hand it sometimes really sucked when he couldn't find a good spot, and lets not even talk about how much winter _was, which is not fun at all_. But Aiden was simply too prideful and confident in himself to tell anyone he needed help - _I don't need help -_ He reminded himself. How would it sound anyway? _I'm a highly skilled homeless Assassin, and I can't even buy a place of my own? Trust me with your important missions?_ He snorted at the thought, Ezio would surely tell him to get his act together and come back when he could be a real man. 

**"Do you usually enjoy sleeping in hay carts?"**

It was a voice, full of sarcasm and amusement, coming from.... _Right next to his right ear_. It sent shivers down Aiden's spine, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. He practically jumped to his feet as he leaptforward, twirling around extending his hidden blade. There was a loud _CLANK_ as his blade struck another, of similar design, being held by a man with a golden-brown hood and yellow tunic, the hood blended into a long cape, oddly purple-like eyes looking at him with an air of amusement and calamity. 

Aiden let out a quiet breath, lowering his hidden-blade, " _Bonjour_ _monsieur_ La Volpe..." he said as he sighed in relief. 

La Volpe, the master of the thieves guild in Italy Rome, and part of the Assassin's Creed Brotherhood, an ally. He had a smile and a knowing look in those odd eyes of his as he peered at Aiden from under his golden hood. 

" _Ciao_ Aiden, I came looking for you in the Brotherhood's headquarters this morning but you were not there. Imagine my surprise to find you asleep in a pile of hay, was the recon you did last night really that tiring? Can't afford a bed?" La Volpe was taunting, merely being sarcastic, not realizing how close to the truth his words actually were. 

Aiden felt a flash of alarm, but then relaxed realizing La Volpe was simply joking, having no idea the impact of his words. Instead, a smile found its way onto Aiden's expression, as he folded his arms over his chest. Tilting his head slightly to one side, and looking up at the taller man with playful eyes. 

"I'll have you know the mission took quite a bit of running, and it seems I had stopped only for a short nap... I guess it turned out rather long nap instead. Is there something I could be of assistance to you, today, La Volpe?" The French Celtic asked, motioning with one hand while his other remained tucked under his arms in a half-crossed position. Confidence seems to radiant from Aiden always, despite what secrets laid below the surface of that confidence. 

La Volpe smirked, the way his eye's met Aiden's made the young man feel uncomfortable. It was like those purple eyes could look right through his lies and that was borderline _disturbing._ Still, Aiden had seen plenty of...Supernatural like things in his life and wouldn't put it past La Volpe to be more than human himself. After all, Aiden wasn't fully human either. 

But if the man saw through his lies, he said nothing, folding his arms on top of the edge of the wooden cart neatly, head tilted down slightly to cast a shadow over his face, as his violent eyes examined the hay bits stick in Aiden's robes. Aiden tore away from the older man's gaze to check that his bag with his armour and gear were still neatly stashed underneath the cart. He still had his hidden blades on though - he almost never took those off. 

"Yes, I do have a task for you today, I don't suppose your free _fratello_ (brother)?" He asked, his Italian accent lacing his voice as he pulled out a parchment from inside his cloak. 

"I'm always free for you brother," Aiden said, returning La Volpe's smirk for one of his own.

* * *

"Hmmm," Aiden pulled the parchment out from inside his cloak, unrolling it as he inspected the image of his target roughly drawn in ink on it. La Volpe had also told him the target was an older male, with amber eyes and dark brown curly locks, it reminded Aiden briefly of his Uncle, but he quickly pushed that thought into the back of his mind. 

He wasn't here to kill... No, he was here to _steal_ , apparently, the man had taken something of importance. A fancy piece of jewelry from one of La Volpe's thieves, the thief had been captured and they stripped her of it during that time until she was able to escape. Aiden tried to press for what exactly was so important about it, but La Volpe refused to say. _That man is always shrouded in mystery it seems..._ He thought to himself.

Here was the Celtic French man as he leaned down over the edge of a tiled roof, his feet resting on a piece of wood that had been laid over to hold the broken tiles in place. A weak effort at a fix, the owner was probably too poor to afford anything more. _Most people here are too poor to afford much, the borgia guards take all of what they make._ Maybe not _all_ of it but it certainly seemed so sometimes.

He pulled his hood up, peeking out from under its shadow, red eye's flashing a brief moment as the vision - eagle vision as some called it - took over his sight. As he scanned the party below, he was looking for his target. La Volpe didn't give him much to go off of, forcing Aiden to rely more on his vision and social skills then he would have liked... But still. He could be a party man... Oh, he _definitely_ knew how to be a party man... 

People were in groups, cliches, talking to friends or enemies, who knew? Parties like these were never as nice and simple as they seemed... There was wine, a lot of it, and food as well, everyone well dressed, though some less so after drinking too much wine. Aiden wore his cloak as usual, but he did make sure to get it cleaned up before coming. Yes it would be better to come in nicer clothes... But he didn't have any, and he was too proud to ask for it from the Creed. 

Aiden watched the crowd, some were in blue, some red - he needed to watch out for those - some an odd green that he wasn't sure what it meant, but no yellow. Not yet, perhaps he simply wasn't focusing hard enough. Eagle vision still confused him at times, he decided he would do better to slip into the crowd and use his extroverted self to gain information by means of gossip... He looked for a group of ladies and grinned, ah yes, high-class ladies were well known for gossip.

Blinking to clear his vision back to normal, he slipped down the side of the building landing and ducking into a roll, no one noticed him as the shadow of the alley cover his dark robes from sight. He pulled his hood down, running a hand through his hair to slick it back and putting on his best smile. Moving through the crowd like he belonged like he was meant to be here, he made sure to avoid the guards, in case one of them recognized him as an Assassin. 

The trick with parties was first - ask a lot of questions - people _love_ talking about themselves. Second - be funny - make jokes, flirt with the ladies, act like your confidence can't be questioned.

And third.... _gossip._

Gossip was the best way to gain information, and a method Aiden would be happy to deploy. Aiden saw a group of young girls, in beautifully dressed in silver and gold coloured laces, jewelry of all shapes and sizes, hair up in pins and fancy styles, hips swaying slightly in their dresses with the excitement of the conversation. 

Aiden slid himself closer, putting his arms around two of the girls, he himself wasn't much taller than them, in fact, he was almost the same height as the woman across from him, who gave him a deep frown at his invasion into their conversation. 

"Greetings _Madame_ you all look so _belle (beautiful)_ tonight I couldn't help but come to say hello," He said allowing his French accent to lace his words thickly, flowing smoothly like singer softly singing to a lullaby. One of the girls, the one on his right, let out a huff of annoyance and pulled out from under his arm, he flashed her a toothy grin, she looked alarmed for a brief moment, eyes widening, at his sharp teeth, but Aiden quickly turned away and she pushed the thought away as just having too much wine. 

The other girl though, the one with dark brown hair and amber eyes swooned at his accent, her cheeks flushed, eye's blinking up at him. Aiden's smile returned confidently, "Can I ask what have you _belle dames_ (beautiful ladies) so excited? Honestly, I've found this party quite... Borring." He stated, slowly removing his arm from the other girl, the one with amber eyes who kept smiling at him and standing as close as she could without it appearing too close. 

She instantly piped up at her chance to speak, but she is cut off, as the angry glare across from Aiden spoke first. "Why would a man like you be interested in idle gossip?" She asked, eye's like daggers, obviously she didn't like his flirting attempts with her friend. Nevertheless, Aiden wouldn't be pushed away so easily, his grin widening. 

"'Man like me?' _Madame_ you wound me! But let me ask this - how do you know what kind of man I am... M'ladyyou have yet to truly get to know me..." He said, taking her hand and kissing the back of it with a bow, like the proper Frenchman he was taught to be. 

He didn't miss the blush that crossed her face, a brief moment of surprise, followed by a huff of annoyance, she allowed him to kiss her hand, letting it drop from his grasp as he stood up straight.

"I suppose I ought to give you a chance," She admitted, the other two girls giggling as she glared at them with a hard stare, "...My name is Aurora, and who might you be?" She asked. Aiden smiled to himself, he knew if he got on this lady's good side he would learn something. Hopefully, it would be useful, if not this was all a waste. But if he got on her good side, the other ladies would speak too. 

"Why I am nonother than Aiden O'Conner, its a pleasure and an honor to meet you _belle(beautiful)_ Aurora." Aiden said with a smile. 

"Aiden have you heard of that man Marco? I heard he went to the brothel last night but his wife caught him..." One of the other ladies whispered quietly. 

"Maria! Shh! Don't speak such things in front of a gentleman." Aurora chided her, eyebrows narrowing, she was like the mother and the other two young women were the daughters. Yet they were all around the same age. Aiden chuckled lightly, gaining a glare of his own from the 'mother hen' as he quickly concealed his amusement under a expression of soft interest. 

"Tell me more about this Marco? I think I've heard of him... Is he the one with short curly hair?" He inquired, acting innocent as if simply curious in idle gossip. The other lady, on his other side piped up at that. 

"Yes! He has the most intense amber eyes... But he is far from a gentleman..." She frowned, "He isn't boastful but he sure does lack ettiuet and is quite blunt and rude..." She added, glancing down at her feet as if suddenly feeling shy or sad. 

Aiden tilted his head, "And what makes you have such an expression _madame?_ You are much to beautiful to be so sad..." He said, with a concerned look. Gently tilting her head up to look at him with a hand. She blushed, and glanced at the other girl, who took it as her cue to speak for her. 

"Sofia was just approaching Marco to say hello and thank him for the part... He grabbed her arm and yelled at her! Saying she was following him! Paranoid fool... She was crying when we found her, Sofia has always been a bit shy and Marco certainly didn't help with his big mouth..." Maria said, brushing her brown hair back with a hand, green eye's narrow with anger. But it wasn't directed at him, no it was at this Marco. 

_Paranoid huh? Now why would he be so paranoid unless he had something to hide?_ _A_ iden wondered to himself, putting an arm around Sofia's shoulders. He brushed her light dirty-blonde hair back, enjoying how it made her blush brightly. "Madame I will find this... Marco... and I will make sure he... _ressent la douleur_ (feels pain)...so he will learn his lesson." 

Sofia looked like she was going to protest, but Aurora spoke up, "Thank you Mr O'connor, that man needs to be put in his place..." She said, Aiden had gained her respect he knew, he smiled. Removing his arm from around the ever shy Sofia, he gave a short bow. " _M_ _on plaisir madame_ " (my pleasure ma'am) and with that he turned...

And disappeared into the crowd. 

* * *

Aiden was watching this man, Marco from the cover of a canopy, leaning against the wall, one elbow propped up, knee's bent as he sat rather comfortably on a stool, it may not look that comfy of a sitting position, but for him it was. Allowing his hood to fall down and cast a shadow over his face, arms folded, sticking to the shadow. He wasn't here to socialize anymore, he was here to watch, and observe. Marco clearly didn't have the item _on him_ in this moment, so Aiden just had to wait and watch. 

Those ladies hadn't been kidding - the man was rude beyond belief, having grown up being taught strict rules of courtesy and respect in France. Aiden was almost offended that such a man would be so disrespectful and get away with it. He sighed, watching as Marco refused to eat a piece of cheese because it had a 'speck' on it, despite the fact it was offered to him by a lovely young lady. _Let me add spoiled to that..._ he thought to himself.

The man rudely snapped at the young lady and sent her crying away into a group of her lady friends, who all were glaring daggers at the man. _Like Sofia and her friends said... Turns all the ladies away crying... If it were me I'd punch that sorry little face of his! I'm kinda glad I didn't hear what he said, it must've been pretty bad to make her cry._ Aiden cooled his temper, he wasn't here to put Marco in his place... As much as he _wanted_ too. No, he was here to find the stolen item and take it back... Er, well, it had been stolen already... And then stolen again... _So I'm stealing it...Again? Stealing it back? Yeah?_

Aiden's eyes suddenly met black orbs, for a brief moment he found himself looking into the eye's of his Uncle, Louis. " _Merde_ " he cursed under his breath, feeling his heart rate increase like a train. Suddenly he forgot where he was, suddenly he was a little child again, peeking around the door of his closet that suddenly felt so _small_. His chest heaved, the air leaving his lungs, the walls seemed to close in and he couldn't get out, he couldn't move, why? Because all he could see was the flash of a blade in the orange candlelight. The scream followed by a gurgle, it was from his father.

Who had just been stabbed by his Uncle, the man he spent most of his childhood living with, due to his father's constant travels. Those black eye's turned to look into Aiden's red one's, and he couldn't move. The closet door open just enough to witness the murder of his Father. And yet despite the closing wall, despite the fear that gripped him, he couldn't move. _He couldn't breathe,_ it was so hard to breathe, why was it so hard?

In reality, it was a memory, in the real one he _had_ moved, and he _did_ escape his Uncle. 

In reality, he was clutching his chest plate, as he struggled for each breath like it was his last, fear clogged his mind, sweat dripping down his brow. Each breath heavy and labored, gasping raspy sounding as if a tone of bricks sat on his lungs. 

His mind was blank, a fog of fear making him tremble like a scared little girl, curling up with his knee's to his chest unable to move out of fear, unable to do _anything_ but gasp for each breath. Until, slowly but surely, he calmed down, the weight lifted, and he prayed a silent prayer of gratitude as he felt the air fill his lungs once more. " _Je perds la tête..."_ (I'm losing my mind) he muttered.

He composed himself, glad the wall he sat behind hide him well, and no one had bothered him. _**Was that him? Was it really him?**_ he had to know, so he jumped down from the stool and moved along the wall of the courtyard, watching the crowds. He closed his eye's and his pupils briefly expanded as his eagle vision was activated. 

_If he's here he'll show up as an enemy_ , Aiden said, pushing his mission aside for now. Marco wasn't going anywhere and he needed to be sure his Uncle wasn't here. If he was, it meant two things - he was in _deep_ trouble, and second - The Templars had something going on here. Something more on the surface, more then just Marco catching one of their thieves. 

He quickly scanned the crowd, ignoring his pounding heart, but saw nothing. The only red ones were the guards, and Aiden found himself letting out a sigh of relief. It could have been anyone, his Uncle wasn't the only person with oddly black eyes after all. The Assassin relaxed, _time to get back to the mission._ He pushed the flashback he had minutes before into the back of his mind, ignoring how it left him gasping and panting. Ignoring all his odd fears, fears of being in small spaces, fear of running into Louis, fear of being found out. 

_I'm an assassin, I'm not afraid of anything..._  
Not even death itself.   
Or so he told himself.

* * *


	3. Pastlife Discovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aiden knows where the dagger is, now just to get it, easy right?  
> Perhaps not...

The night was on them, the moon casting long shadows across the archways of the mansion, large bricked walls all around it, richly dressed in fine decorated gold engravings. A black gate, guarded by two borgia guards stood in front, a garden must've been on the east side, because Aiden could see the tops of tree's, and various other exotic plants above the wall. Aiden was sitting atop a nearby building, overlooking the mansion and the grounds around it with his eagle vision. 

The weakest point was the gardens, he could already spot a tree he could climb into if needed, the only problem was there was a guard leaning against said tree. "I'll just have to be extra quiet~" he said with a purr, followed by a smirk, a particularly sharp tooth poking out from his upper lip. Then he slipped down the wall, landing with a thud as he rolled forward onto his feet. He moved like a shadow, soon finding himself at the base of the wall. The wall that separated him from his mission, his goal, the mansion. 

Aiden jumped up, using the claws that stuck out of his leather gloves to sink them into a gap in one of the bricks between the wall, he was a bit short for an assassin - and though Ezio probably could have easily jumped the wall in one leap and grab the top - however Aiden was a rather short man, so often had to use other means to climb up quickly on walls. Nevertheless his claws worked well for just that, and he was quick, agile, his legs able to give him more boots and jump then the heavier taller Assassin's.

His other hand soon came up and gripped the top of the wall, hauling himself up until his foot found a perch and he jumped, swinging both legs over the edge, landing perfectly in the fork of the tree, it swayed a bit with his weight, creaking. Aiden held his breath, reading to jump down and assassinate the guard below if he dared to look up...

Luckily he didn't, in fact the guard looked quite bored, picking at some dirt on his arm as his other hand lazily rested on his belt. If Aiden didn't hate the Templar's so much he might have sympathy for the man, no one really understood just how hard it is to stay focused for so long. Waiting hours at a time, starring at the same things every, single, day, and being forced to stay alert the whole time. _What I sad job, I'm so glad I'm not a guard._ Aiden thought to himself, but as it was, the Frenchman held no such sympathy for them, not even one drop.

Aiden let out a breath, then he quietly jumped down from the tree', planting his feet onto the shoulders of the man below. A grunt, followed by a soft _sliiink_ and a sound of blade piercing flesh as Aiden swiftly stabbed him in the back, the now dead guard had taken most of the impact of the Assassin's fall. He quickly drug the man into the bushes overgrowing behind the tree, cleaning the blood on his blade off on the man's shirt.  
 _  
"c'était facile_ (That was easy)" he said to himself with a grin, his confidence sometimes strayed into the area of pride, or perhaps it was all a facade, made to fool others, so they wouldn't dig deeper and find the dark secrets that laid below. Or perhaps he really was just full of himself, only Aiden himself really knew the answer to that, at this time. Turning back towards the house, the purple-robed man walked quietly down the bricked pathway of the garden. There were guards paroling on the left side of the house, but he had enough time to climb inside before they would be close enough to see him.

Aiden was soon clambering up the wall of the house, using his strong legs and back muscles to leap and grab, making his ascension quicker. He heard soft voices, just as he slipped into the first window. He found himself inside a bedroom, the master bedroom if he wasn't mistaken. There was a big bed with a red blanket, fancy curtain swinging in the window sill where the purple robed assassin sat. A carpet with delicate intricate designs on it laid in the middle along with a desk and a chair. Golden jewelry laid on on the desk along with a pouch of gold.

"Someone must be rich to leave money out like this! Ohhh I could buy a few nights at the inn with this...But better to give it to the Brotherhood for the cause, anyway." Aiden said, it was very tempting, but he would only keep his fair cut, for food and supplies, and then leave the rest to Ezio. He stuck the pouch into his bag with a smile, just then, he heard a rustle of footsteps coming down the hall. Without thinking he ducked back behind the entrance way, if the person came inside Aiden could grab him before he could sound the alarm.

But the person never came, now that he thought about it the footsteps had been awfully light. Aiden strained to hear, turning on his eagle vision to try and see where the enemy was, but he saw nothing except the two guards downstairs, and three on the next level above him. "So much for 'many guards' he spoke about" the Frenchman chuckled quietly. He didn't know where this mysterious person had gone but they weren't here now, and he needed to hurry before they found that body in the bushes. 

* * *

Blood.

Blood dripping off his hands, he wiped them off on his robe, on the red parts in hope it would blend into the fabric better. The Frenchman's breath came out heavy, that hadn't been quite as quiet as he would have liked... But still, three bodies laid dead at the center of the room, one had his throat slit while the others were killed by multiple stab wounds. He had sneaked up on the one guard when the other two walked in and saw the body at Aiden's feet.

Luckily none of them yelled out, however he did still make a decent amount of noise, one of the guards outside was calling for someone, who wasn't replying. Making the purple robed assassin suspect one of the guards he killed was the man he was calling for. They weren't alert, but suspicious, and weary, Aiden was running out of time. Unless he wanted to fight off a large group of guards, something he had seen the famous Ezio assassin do many times - not something he wished to try for _himself_ though.

He looked around the room, _where would I hide a dagger if a I was a self-righteous prideful stuck up Borgia guy like Marco_. He thought to himself, snorting at his 'creative' description of the Italian in his mind. Yeah Aiden laughed at his own jokes, and yeah he really did need a life... But he decided to give his life for the Brotherhood, so that wasn't going to change anytime soon, if ever. 

The room was lightly lit, the darkness outside seeping through the drawn red silk curtains. A dinning table sat in the middle of the room, but on closer inspect the frenchman suspected it was more of a meeting table perhaps, not seeing any dishes, or utensils used for dinning. Instead, two smaller desk-like tables, decorated with gold lining sat on either side of the long room. Papers scattered about in the fight all across their surface, a candle that some-how remained untouched filling part of the room with a orange glow. Blood stained the floor, making a nice little puddle besides the dead guards.

He went to one of the desk's and scanned over the papers, moving them aside to look for a key or something, anything to give him a hint. Looking under the table, checking the chairs, the windowstil, behind the curtains. He just needed _something_ to show him where it was! Then, it struck him suddenly... What were you excepting an idea? No, it struck him, literally, on the head, and fell clattering down to the floor by his boots. It must've been behind the curtains, and when he pushed them aside. Not too soon either, he heard yelling from the stairway, in was spoken in Italian and unfortunately Aiden only spoke enough to say he _didn't_ speak it. 

But the assassin could guess that the man was looking for his friend, probably one of the dead guards. The man would be bringing all his friends too, Aiden needed to hurry. Rushing as silently as possibly, he went to the back of the room, where a door lay, sliding the key inside, he turned, he expected to hear a noise but didn't. In too much of a hurry to ponder on that odd fact, Aiden shoved the door open closing it quickly. Scanning the room inside...

The room was cast in almost total darkness, piles of scrolls, and old rusted artifacts thrown about like their value didn't matter. Crates and piles of junk left shewn about, "Does this guy have so much money he doesn't care the value of this stuff? This could feed the poor for weeks..." It was hard to see well, the only light coming from a open window.

An open window.

_An open window._

_....  
_

That should have stuck out to him, it really should have, but instead his bright red eyes were drawn right to the bright gold-lined silver polished dagger sitting in the center of a desk. The only object that seemed well kept and not throw around or left to collect dust. "There it is!" He eager reached for it, the handle was made of intricate wood lined with thick leather, a design of a eagle engraved into it. Sloping up to a gold handle, that held the perfectly crafted steel blade. Just holding it in his hand made him realize the value of what he held, and he quickly put it down, afraid he might drop it in his clumsiness. He went to put it in his pouch...

  
But froze in his tracks when he heard a deep gruff voice. 

"What have those Assassins been teaching you _Alvah_? How to fumble about in the shadows like a blind man?"

That voice sent shiver down his spine, memories flooding his mind, painful memories he had buried deep deep inside himself, into the back of his mind. labeled ' _someone else_ ' so he could disassociate with them. He was Aiden, he had been training the past year to become an Assassin, serve the Brotherhood. And in that time he had met many people, and made new friends. Not many, but more then he had before - which was none - now he had people to fight for. People to make him laugh and smile, to forget his old life, to move on, be stronger...

But that name, that voice, that _man_ behind him brought them all back. Flooding his mind like a dam broken down, the wave hitting him like a spike piercing his heart and chest. Fear and anger gripped him, no, not anger... _Rage_ it shook him to his core, making a new adrenaline rush fill his veins, his fist's tightening into balls, clawed-gloves digging painfully into his knuckles. 

"....Louis." Aiden said, his voice barley above a whisper. 

_"_ _C'est bon de te revoir..._ _nièce_ _"_ (Good to see you again...Niece)" Louis replied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I added a Epilogue so sorry for the temporary double post. The messiness will be fixed in like ten minutes |D. 
> 
> I am a college student and a artist who takes commissioned work, so I can't promise quick updates. But I will do my best! Do check out my DeviantART and Twitter if you want to see more art of Aiden and Louis!
> 
> I claim no rights to Assassin's Creed  
> I DO NOT speak French, or Italian, at all. So any bad translations thank Google for XD.


	4. A Bloody Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> DO NOTE THE NEW TAGS there's some gender confusion and miss-using of a person's pronouns here that could be considered transphobia. Could be triggering to some. PLEASE REMEMBER that I DO NOT necessarily agree with the character's views in this chapter, these are not my views, don't get mad at me okay lol XD.

There was a terrifying... Silence that filled the room, Aiden could almost _feel_ the heavy weight sinking into his stomach, pushing his shoulders down, lacing its black claws into his muscles and bones, gripping him, making his whole body tense up like a tightly wound spring. Aiden just stood frozen, all the training his mentor had crammed into his head was gone and vanished in this moment as he stood still. He had his back to a _Templar_ and yet he hadn't even turned around yet, hadn't planned an escape, wasn't even thinking about any of those things.

No he was too lost in memories he had labeled under his old name, old self, old person.  
Memories labeled under the name " _alvah_ ". Memories of fear, of horror of the day _alvah's_ world came crashing down and _she_ took on a new identity. The day _she_ died and _Aiden_ rose in her place, a man of great confidence bordering arrogance, a man of carefree attitude as if nothing bothered him, a man who was afraid of nothing and no one. Who trained hard and dedicated his life to the cause, who smiled and laugh, flirted and teased, socialized and had a life. Not a perfect life, he was also homeless most nights but it was more out of preference really. Sometimes.

But was that really him? Or a fake? Who... Was Aiden? _Who am I really?_ That thought was scary, terrifying, because he honestly didn't want the answer. Because those memories of Alvah brought up so many emotions, shame, shame because Alvah was scared, weak, little girl who kept hopping for a savior to come and rescue her. That savior didn't come, and when she tried to rescue herself no one gave her a second thought, because she was _weak_ , she was _a woman_ , she wasn't allowed to defend herself, to buy her own stuff.

Those memories brought fear, because Alvah had watched her own father murdered in front of her vary eyes by the man who had been more of a father then her real dad ever had been. But she still loved her real dad, he was just... Mostly not there, most of her life was filled with her Uncle. With Louis, and then one day... Louis murdered him, her father, Casey, dead.

Those memories brought pain, that pain turned into betrayal, and that betrayal turned into anger, and that anger turned into _rage_. _Aiden_ turned around, his eye's glowing dimly and his clawed finger's splayed out, a loud snarl like that of a tiger erupted from his jaws, showing the full line of sharp teeth and fangs protruding from his upper and lower teeth. In that moment there was a glimpse of something... Not human there. He attacked in rage, and anger lacking the movement and training of an Assassin in that moment, relaxed with a animalistic like rage that slashed out at anything he could reach.

Louis moved surprisingly fast for someone of his age, he had trimmed his beard since the incident at the bar, to a more manageable level, but the grey flecks still showed his real age. His body dodged right at the same moment as his armoured left arm flew at Aiden's neck, his right launching up to block the younger man's clawed hands. Aiden felt himself stumbled, his upper body pushing back as he gurgled from the impact of the fist to his throat. While his lower body was still moving forward, all in all he ended up slamming his back into the floor. And the back of his head bouncing off the wooden boards in a way that was not at all good.

Some where in the back of his mind he remembered his mentor saying something about ducking one's head to prevent that very thing from happening. _I should pay more attention to the things mentor says..._ The thought was random, and not useful in this moment so quickly discarded as a shadow fell over his black spot filled vision.

"Wow thats the best you have? Lose your temper and flail your arms like a animal, is that what they taught you Alvah?"

Aiden tried to speak but only a gurgle came out, his throat gasping for air, he rolled to his right as he spotted a throwing knife landing right where he had been a second before. The celtic frenchman rolled swiftly to his feet, taking a deep breath to calm his nerves. Louis was right about one thing, he shouldn't fight this angry. It was hard though, but he did manage to calm down at least a little bit. Pushing his rage, pain, and confusion down deep inside.

"Its Aiden now, you best get it right old man!" He hissed, his inhuman white fangs protruding from his lips as he circled Louis. He had trusted Louis, and in the end his Uncle had choosen to follow his Templar order over loyalty to his family. _I will never forgive him for that, until the day he dies by my hands._ He thought to himself, the two trained assassin's circled each other in tense silence, the only light coming from the open window, the rays of the rising moon casting long windows of light across their cloaked forms.

"Oh is it? Think your a man now? A real man? Or is it all fake? Know your role Alvah, its not fighting some war, thats a man's role. One day that reality will smack you in the face and it'll be too late to turn back." Louis said, his voice stern, condescending, critical, and yet not necessarily full of anger. It was even leveled, but stiff and stern, his voice deep and dark as he spoke.

"I don't have to prove anything to you!" Aiden snarled, it was so hard to focus on fighting, when he felt so _enraged_. His limbs trembling from the truck load of adrenaline was was dumping into his veins, his eyes bright almost glowing. "You killed my father you pathetic excuse for a human being! Killed him! Family means NOTHING to you!" He wanted to cry and scream and destroy everything in the room all at the same time. Because his heart _hurt_ it _hurt so bad_ , and nothing would make that pain stop.

* * *

  
He was breathing hard, but not as hard as his nephew.

_I don't want to hurt her._  
But I might have too.

Alvah why do you force me to be the bad guy? Who do you force my hand so?

"Alvah... Aiden..." Louis grimaced at using Aiden's new name, it felt strange to him, he had seen a little girl grow up all his life and now she was a he, and a assassin. But he was more concerned with convincing Aiden to come with him, _I don't want to hurt her, but she doesn't know what she's getting into. Those assassin's are deceitful, lairs, and are corrupting my little niece._ Of course Louis wouldn't tell it like this to Aiden, it would make him look weak, he couldn't have that. But his worry for here was there, he practically raised her _ungrateful girl, that assassin was never your father... I was._ Casey was never there, he'd show up and act like he could just pretend to be her Dad, it didn't fool Louis. The man ran away from fatherhood after his wife died, _he was a coward_.

"Aiden, come with me, I can show you the truth..." He said, lowering his hands slightly, offering one gloved hand out toward him.

He never got the chance to hear the answer, as his black eyes turned at the sound of shouting in Italian. The guards had spotted them, a whole group of them filling the room quickly, swords drawn and up angry yelling in a language Louis didn't understand.   
"It seems we've been spotted," he said matter-of-fact.

Aiden snorted "Aren't these suppose to be your guys? Templar?" He asked mockingly, as he turned to face the new enemy, rapier drawn from its sheathe up and ready. Now that he wasn't fighting his uncle he had more time to prepare a smoke bomb in one hand, calming himself taking deep breaths. Pushing his emotions to the back of his mind, it was easier to ignore the pain and anger that Louis stirred up when they weren't fighting.

Louis could tell something different coming over Aiden, more controlled, more confident, his stance straightening up, shoulder stiff, arms apart but ready, knee's bent. This was the Assassin Aiden, this was a killer, The Frenchman could tell. It was the same look Aiden's father would have when he returned from a mission hands covered in blood and excusing it off as a animal attack.... But it never was animal blood.

"Well you see, Mr Marco got a little greedy, and I came to confirm whether our spies were right... It seems they were."

"And?"

"If I'm understanding enough Italian, it seems their saying they can't let me leave alive. For surely Marco will be killed if they knew of his greed and crimes against the order."

"How lovely, so we're in this together then, great." Aiden sounded _not at all_ pleased, Louis found himself chuckling at that. The guards yelled louder, but it was all noise in his ear, why couldn't these guys speak English? He huffed in annoyance, well it would make killing them easier, no begging for their lives in a language he could understand, less guilt at least. He could live with that.

"Alright old man, show me what you got and I'll show you what I got." Aiden said with a smirk, "don't slow me down eh?"

Louis had enough time to frown before Aiden moved as quick as a snake, rapier lashing out with a long CLANK as it struck another sword that came up to block it. The French Celtic man twisted his sword and his left hand snapped out a hidden blade that buried itself in the guards neck. A loud gurgle escaping him, blood seeping out of the wound before the Italian collapsed in a spluttering of blood. 

Then all hell broke lose.

They all attacked at once, Louis found himself punching one guard in the nose while also turning to block a sword with his armoured shoulder, grunting at the hard impact. His left hand ejecting the hidden blade to slash at the chest of the other guard, ducking down to sweep the mans' legs out. As he raised his eyes up he saw Aiden take the chance to leap on the fallen man, dual hidden blades sinking into the man's heart and chest at the same time. A wild look was in the young man's face, blood dripping down the ends of his hair and hands. A snarl erupted out of his lips like some kind of animal.

It was a werid feeling, seeing his nephew like that. Something...Something stirred inside him... What... What was that feeling?

He didn't have time to think on it as he almost missed the sword that tried to pierce his side, jumping to the right he blocked the sword with his armored arm. Jabbing four fingers into the man's neck to make him choke and flinch back, giving the Frenchman a opening to sink his hidden blade into his neck. Throwing the body over his shoulder and at another guard coming at his back. A few kicks to the man's knee's and a good punch to the temple and he was knocked out cold. Gotta leave at least one alive right? Let them go crawling back to Marco, let him know that the order was angry, that Louis was coming. _Coming for his blood_. No one betrayed the order, especially not for greed.

He turned back to see Aiden ripping up a man's arm with his claws as he ducked past him, turning and stabbing him in the back with his hidden blade before blocking a sword with his own. Snarling into the guard's face and watching as fear was written all over it. Then he ended his life too with a swift slash to the gut and a stab through the chest.

Silence filled the room.

"Well that was fun, I thought we might have to make a quick exit with a smoke bomb but apparently not." Aiden chuckled, smiling like a madman. The rush of adrenaline was thrilling Louis admitted but to see him smile like that was _creepy as hell._ Though he'd never say that out-loud.

Then there was a familiar voice of Marco from the hallway, both men turned to look...

"Well gents the party's over now."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another cliffhanger I'm so evil muahahaha.

**Author's Note:**

> I am a college student and a artist who takes commissioned work, so I can't promise quick updates. But I will do my best! Do check out my DeviantART and Twitter if you want to see more art of Aiden and Louis!
> 
> I claim no rights to Assassin's Creed  
> I DO NOT speak French, or Italian, at all. So any bad translations thank Google for XD.


End file.
